The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 142

**Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest 142**

Gemma

Reyna hesitates for a moment, her brow furrowing as she processes my words. Finally, she shakes her head, her voice steady but laced with disbelief. “Of course not. I just thought it was beautiful.”

I can see the realization dawn on her. “Oh, you didn’t know. That explains it.”

Claire squints at me, her curiosity piqued. “Gemma, what’s that supposed to mean? Do you know who the artist is?”

A small smile creeps onto my lips. “I do. Very well, in fact.”

The surprise on Claire’s face is palpable. She clearly didn’t expect that revelation.

The air in the room thickens with anticipation as they wait for me to elaborate. I take a breath, steadying myself. “I painted it. That’s why I mentioned it’s not quite up to a master’s standard. I know I’m still finding my way.”

As I share this, I direct a calm, even smile at Reyna. Her hands are balled into tight fists resting in her lap, and I can almost feel her frustration radiating off her. She must be seething inside, especially after spending a small fortune to acquire this painting—my painting.

Even Cassian looks taken aback. We’ve shared a home for three years, and he had no inkling of my artistic abilities.

Noticing the curious glances directed at me, I add, “I took an elective in oil painting back in college. This piece was one of my assignments.”

Just a simple assignment, yet it fetched millions at the recent auction. The irony isn’t lost on me.

“Why didn’t you tell me that when I bought it?” Reyna snaps, her voice sharp and accusatory.

I can’t help but smirk a little. “Honestly, I was hoping to inflate the price enough to deter you. But who could have predicted it would skyrocket like that, and you’d still end up purchasing it?”

I shrug nonchalantly, my hands outstretched as if to say, “What can you do?” The implication is clear: that’s on you, Reyna. Don’t pin this on me.

They thought they could use this moment to belittle me, to make me feel small. Yet, the real embarrassment lies with them.

And honestly? Their faux compliments bring me a joy they’ll never comprehend. Watching those who have always looked down on me squirm in discomfort? It’s a sweet victory.

The cherry on top is that they all genuinely appreciate the painting. Had they known I was the artist, they would never have admitted it.

I turn to Claire, my smile warm and genuine. “Thank you, Claire. If it weren’t for you, I might never have realized my painting had any merit!”

Donovan, overhearing our exchange, nearly bursts into laughter, his amusement evident.

“Why didn’t you keep painting?” Cassian asks, his curiosity evident in his expression.

What he truly means is clear: with talent like mine, even if it was just an elective, why did I choose to abandon that path and end up in the warehouse at Blackwell Industries instead of pursuing art?

I hold his gaze, the silence stretching between us. There’s no way I’m going to reveal the truth.

Because I chose to be with you, Cassian.

I sacrificed my dreams, my passion for art, my very essence… all for him.

I thought that being with him was my ultimate victory.

But I was so wrong.

Now, reflecting on it all, I feel a deep sense of regret.

I allowed love to blind me. And in the end, I found myself with nothing.

Reyna’s face is a picture of mortification. She’s been publicly humiliated in front of the entire family, and now she must grapple with the uncomfortable truth that she actually likes my painting. Throughout dinner, her discomfort is palpable. The atmosphere is icy; no one is extending her any kindness, and most seem to deliberately ignore her.

After the meal, she decides to make her exit, claiming she has something urgent to attend to.

Of course, Donovan doesn’t protest. And I certainly won’t either.

At the door, Reyna turns back to Cassian, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotions.

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